Where Mortals Fear to Tread
by Mythdefied
Summary: Sequel to "Birds of a Different Color." Autolycus and Strife discuss the details of their arrangement over dinner. (Gen fic)


General Comments: This is the third in a series I have yet to give a name to. It follows "Birds of a Different Color" and it's more light-hearted than the last two. I think this series is going to be a mix of comedy and seriousness depending on what type of mood I'm in when I'm writing. I didn't really advance the plot too much but now I have a general idea of where I'm going with this and I've finally gotten things set up the way I want them. 

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters, no money is being made from this and no infringement is intended. 

Warnings: PG for mild gross-out factor. 

Archive: Only on ff.net, RoCS, and my site.   


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Where Mortals Fear to Tread   
by Erin   
October 1998   
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The place smelled like something had died and been left out to rot. The furniture was rickety and full of splinters. The ale was bitter and Autolycus swore he could see something moving in the plate of what could only be laughingly called food that sat in front of him. 

The only reason he'd come here at all was because this tavern was the kind of place where one could conduct all sorts of "business" without attracting notice. Actually, you could do pretty much whatever you wanted without attracting attention. Having only been there about a half a glass, Autolycus had already seen three assaults, two murders, a full-scale tavern brawl, a prostitute servicing three men at once on one of the tables in the corner and an armed band of mercenaries riding their horses through the middle of the tavern. However, in all of this there was one thing he saw that truly amazed as well as disgusted him. All he could do was stare and he wasn't alone. Many of the tavern's patrons -- hardened criminals and veterans all -- were openly staring while looking rather ill. 

"Come on, you've got to try this, it's really great!" Strife said enthusiastically just before he took another large bite of whatever that was on his plate. 

Autolycus just continued to stare at the God of Mischief who ate as though it was the best meal he'd ever had. Autolycus had ordered what passed for ale here thinking he could probably stomach it but even he wasn't crazy enough to order the food. Strife had done that. Autolycus had tried to warn him but apparently warnings were unnecessary, for Strife. Autolycus certainly could've used one. 

He closed his eyes momentarily as Strife continued to eat, fighting back the urge to be sick. They needed to talk and they couldn't do that if one of them was throwing up. When he opened his eyes Strife was leaning across the table looking at Autolycus' plate with predatory eyes. 

"You gonna eat that?" he asked. 

"No, but--" Autolycus didn't get a chance to finish. 

Strife grabbed his plate, pushing his own now-empty one aside. 

"I wouldn't eat that," Autolycus once again tried to warn him. "I think there's something alive in it." 

"Yeah?" Strife frowned as he took a bite. He looked thoughtful as he chewed, then nodded as he swallowed. "Yep, you're right. They were alive. Funny, they were all dead on my plate. Still nice and crunchy though. Adds flavor too." He shrugged as he picked up his mug of ale. "Oh, look; there's something floating in here." He smiled as he looked down at his ale before taking a long drink. 

"Learn to live with it, Auto," Autolycus muttered to himself under his breath. "You're stuck with him." Unfortunately his stomach had other opinions and he was barely managing to keep himself from getting sick right there. Some of the nearby patrons didn't have as much self-control. 

"Gross," Strife wrinkled his nose as he glanced at the people around them. "So, why'd you wanna come here; other than for the food I mean?" he asked as he turned his attention back to his plate. 

"I was hoping we could talk here without you drawing any attention. I should've known better," Autolycus said, trying not to look at what Strife was doing. 

"What d'you mean? I'm disguised and all that, right?" Strife protested, motioning to the black cloak he wore over his usual leather outfit. 

"That's not what's drawing attention," Autolycus sighed. 

"Then what's wrong?" Strife asked around another mouthful of food. 

"Nevermind. Look, just finish...that," Autolycus motioned towards Strife's plate without looking at it. "We'll talk whenever you're done." 

"Okay." Strife shrugged and focused his attention fully on his meal. 

He was done within five minutes and Autolycus didn't know whether to be grateful or ill. Maybe a little of both. 

"Hey, if you're not gonna finish your ale--" 

Autolycus didn't wait for Strife to finish before pushing his mug towards him. There was no way he could drink it now. 

"So whatchya wanna talk about?" Strife asked between swallows of the ale. 

Taking a deep breath and making a conscious effort to settle his stomach Autolycus met Strife's steady gaze. 

"Our partnership," he replied. 

"So, talk." Strife shrugged again. 

"Let's just make sure we've got everything worked out right now, huh? I'd hate it if there was some sort of 'misunderstanding' somewhere down the line." 

"Yeah, okay. I'm with that." 

"What exactly do you expect out of this partnership?" 

"You said it could be fun. That's what I'm here for -- fun," Strife replied. 

"Okay, so that means you aren't in this for the money?" Autolycus couldn't hold back a slight smile. 

"I'm a god. Why do I need money?" 

Autolycus' smile widened. All of a sudden he was feeling much better. 

"Then you won't mind if I just keep whatever we make off of the jobs we pull," he stated for the sake of clarity. 

"Didn't I just say that? You sure your hearing's okay?" Strife raised an eyebrow. 

"Just making sure," Autolycus replied innocently. 

"Whatever. One thing though, I don't just wanna be stealing stuff all the time. I'm the God of Mischief and I want a chance to put my talents to use; know what I mean?" 

Autolycus nodded. "No problem. I'm interested in seeing what exactly it is you do and just _how_ you're going to do it without your powers," he grinned. 

"I don't _need_ my powers you know; I can still cause lots of trouble without 'em. Besides, I'm not gonna be doing it alone," Strife smiled wickedly. 

"Huh?" 

"What, you thought you were gonna kick back while I did all the work?" his smile turned into a smirk. "No way. If I'm helping you steal stuff then you're gonna help me make trouble. Don't worry," he quickly added when Autolycus started to protest, "we won't hurt anyone -- not too much anyway. Think I don't know where you draw the line?" 

"Good," Autolycus mumbled. "Thought I was in trouble there for a second." 

"Nah," Strife took another drink. "You're not in trouble. You're partners with it." 

"Joy," Autolycus said sarcastically. "Say, do you mind if I ask you a question?" 

"Dunno. What's the question?" 

"Why're you doing this?" 

Strife looked thoughtful for a moment. "Personal reasons, and curiosity. Let's leave it there. Okay?" 

Autolycus nodded. "Good enough for me." 

"So what d'we do first?" Strife asked, switching subjects. 

"Depends, what would you rather do first?" 

"Flip for it," Strife decided. "Heads we steal something, tails we go cause some mischief. You got a coin?" 

Rolling his eyes, Autolycus pulled out a dinar. "I guess this means I'm picking up the bill here, right?" 

"Hey, like I said; I'm a god. Why do I need money?" 

"Without your powers you'll figure it out soon enough," Autolycus muttered, tossing the coin up in the air. 

It dropped onto the table. God and mortal watched as it rolled in circles for a few moments before settling onto one side. 

"Heads it is," Autolycus announced. 

"Cool," Strife said. "So what're we gonna steal?" 

"Let me think about it. Since we're starting small, I don't want it to be too difficult," Autolycus said thoughtfully. 

"Okay," Strife downed the last of the ale then waved at a tavernmaid. "You think, I'll eat. Sure hope they serve dessert here." Having gotten the woman's attention he looked back at Autolycus to make another comment but stopped with a frown. 

"Hey, Autolycus; um, is it normal for you mortals to turn that shade of green?"   
  
  
  


Fin 

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© 1998-2003, Erin. 


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